Comforting
by StorySongs
Summary: The yamis comfort their hikaris after a nightmare, each in their own unique way. Oneshot, YxYY friendship, BxR coexistence, blatant MxYM relationship.


He forgot what the actual nightmare was about the moment his eyes opened. He only remembered a sorrowful pain, the ache of being abandoned and alone and useless…

/Aibou?/

Stifling a sob, Yugi leaned into that strong presence wrapping comfort around him.

/Shh, shh, it's alright, I'm here…/

In the quiet of his soul room, Yugi snuggled tight into Yami's arms as the spirit rested his chin on his head and rubbed slow strokes down his back.

"What was it about?" The deep voice rumbled against his ear where it rested against Yami's chest. Yugi sniffled and snuggled closer.

"I don't remember… I just know I was alone. Everyone left me. Joey, Tristan, Grandpa…" He sniffled. "Even you."

Deceptively strong arms tightened around him in a fierce hug.

"I won't leave you, Yugi." The dark spirit pressed his lips to his light's forehead. "Not as long as you still want me here."

Nodding, Yugi let himself be soothed, safe in the protective embrace of his dark.

* * *

_A screech of tires, glass shattering, people shouting. A ferocious pain in his head, but not as bad as the pain in his heart when he looks beside him and sees his sister lying too-still, head at an unnatural angle, blood staining her dark blue hair and pale skin, and Mother's hand twitching where it hangs from the seat, before other hands seize him to pull him out of the twisted overturned car, but NO, he can't leave Amane and Mother and- _

Ryou sat bolt upright in his bed. He shook, hiccupping into sobs as his eyes stung- from tears or the cold sweat running into his eyes he couldn't tell. He wrapped his arms around his knees and rocked himself, trying to pull his mind out of his nightmare.

That had been a bad one; he hadn't dreamed of the accident so vividly in years. He swore he could still taste copper…

The hand he pressed to his mouth came back red, and he winced. It wasn't the first time he'd bitten his tongue or his lip during a nightmare, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

_/Yadonoushi?_/

The sudden voice in the back of his head made him jump. He gulped anxiously- waking up Bakura was never a good idea…

"J-just a nightmare, I'm sorry for waking you…" Bakura pressed against his consciousness like a leopard, warm and solid but with enough teeth and claws to make him not cuddly at all. He flinched as his yami poked into his recent memories, drawing away from the unusually gentle mental probe.

"Stop it- I don't want to think about it…" To his surprise, Bakura backed off. He's going to pay for that, somehow…

But the expected retribution never comes. They sit in silence for a moment and Ryou feels his heartbeat slowly begin to calm and the shakes ebb away. He knows he's not going to sleep again tonight, but he feels like he should at least try…

/Let me have control of the body./

And there went that plan. He only gave a token resistance as Bakura pushed forward, slipping back towards his soul room… but he catches onto the edge of their consciousness with the tips of his mental fingers. He doesn't want to go into his lonely room, to stare at pictures of his family and what few friends he had, and do nothing but think about what he's lost…

To his surprise, his yami doesn't push the issue and lets him remain there, aware of what their body is doing but not in control. He watches listlessly as Bakura throws off the covers and stalks (he doesn't know how to walk normally, it seems) into the kitchen. For the millionth time, Ryou is bitterly glad his dad is rarely home- it would be awkward to explain his late-night wanderings.

Bakura doesn't seem interested in going out tonight. In the kitchen he begins rummaging around in the cabinets, pulling down the pot he uses to cook noodles. Despite himself, Ryou's curiosity peaks.

[What are you doing?] Bakura huffed and roughly set the pot down on the stove.

/I'm hungry. I want- what was it you made a few weeks ago? That white sauce you put over noodles./

[Alfredo?]

/Yes, that./ Ryou sighed.

[Bakura, it's after midnight and we had dinner just a few hours ago, there's no way you can be hungry-]

/But I am./

He filled the pot with water and sat it on the stove, before glaring suspiciously down at the burners. Despite his lingering depression, Ryou giggled softly before Bakura growled at him.

[You just turn it until it clicks and lights- NOT THAT FAR! You'll burn the building down…] After several more instructions and frantic corrections, Bakura growled in frustration and shoved Ryou back into control.

/Fine! _You_ make it then./

And that was how Ryou Bakura ended up making chicken alfredo at midnight. The two of them shared it bite for bite, switching control as easily and as comfortably as breathing. By the time they were done and the kitchen was reasonably clean (which of _course_ Bakura didn't deign to help with…) it was past one in the morning.

Yawning, Ryou settled back into his bed and turned off his alarm clock. It was Saturday night, it wouldn't do any harm to sleep late tomorrow.

Just before he slipped down into unconsciousness, he remembered his earlier nightmare, but it didn't cause panic this time. The memories of copper horror and pain were tempered by the feeling of a full belly and a sarcastic thief lingering to share a meal with him- and who was lurking in the back of his mind even now, quietly watching and for once not mocking his weakness.

The expression on his face could almost be called a smile as he fell asleep.

* * *

"Ow, ow, OW!" Marik thrashed in bed as his back burned like it was freshly cut and salted. He hissed breath through his teeth, pressing a hand to his scars as if that would help.

He slumped back to the bed. Yes, he knew the pain was all in his head; the cuts were long healed and didn't hurt any more, but sometimes when he slept… His mind forgot that little fact.

/Hikari-pretty hurt?/ Marik groaned. His own personal watchdog was back.

"Malik, not now…" he muttered into his pillow. As if that would stop his crazy…

He could feel the phantom hand running its way down his back, pausing to gently stroke over his scars. Despite himself, he relaxed under the treatment. One hand suddenly tightened in his hair, and he made a noise. (He would later deny that it had been a squeak.)

Ghostly lips at his neck, forming into a smirk.

/Want Malik-sama to make it better?/

Oh, not this again!

"Marik, we've talked about this, it's not healthy to- Ah!"

Dragged into the soul room they share, hands becoming _much_ more physical against his body… He's certainly not thinking about his back anymore.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Can you tell which pair I find easiest to write? I don't know why, I just do.

... Also, I don't know why my interpretation of Malik is a bit sex-obsessed. He just is.

Consider this as an AU post series I suppose? Where the yamis didn't leave and stayed with their other halves, but Zorc was defeated.


End file.
